


Stay in the Equation

by RainbowMartin



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Crying, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Food (warning), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied neglectful parents, Panic Attacks, Platonic Lamp/Calm - Freeform, Platonic Logicality - Freeform, Some Very Emotional Math, Suicidal Thoughts, homophobia mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 13:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16493129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowMartin/pseuds/RainbowMartin
Summary: A depressed and suicidal Logan is helped by a kind stranger and finds himself becoming a part of a family.





	Stay in the Equation

**Author's Note:**

> This is the work I am most proud of for this fandom (and probably out of everything I've ever written). I've had a lot of positive messages about it on Tumblr and I want to share it with this community as well. Here is the note I put at the beginning of the original post:
> 
> Notes: Uh, so…I wasn’t having a good morning a couple of days ago so I sat down to write. Two days and 11K words later, I present to you this whopper of a human AU one-shot, in which Logan is also Not having a good day and Patton tells him a lot of things that Logan and I both kinda needed to hear. Do pay attention to the warnings–the fic is dark, I’m not gonna lie. But it really was written as an uplifting thing for me and I intend for it to have a message of hope, not despair. In case you need to know more specifics to know if it will be bad for you to read, you can message me for content details. Stay safe, and stay in the equation, my friends. I love you very much. <3 ~Martin

Sitting on the outside of the railing on the bridge always made Logan feel a little less empty inside. The walking trail was almost always completely deserted--the entrance was overgrown with thorn bushes and unless one knew it was there, they would walk right past it on the sidewalk by the busy street.

But if one ducked underneath the thorn bushes and walked for about a mile on the sandy path sprouting with dandelions and grass, one would find themself standing on a metal bridge over a fairly deep ravine. Depending on the time of year, the stream that ran through the ravine would either be a tiny trickle or almost a river. It was springtime--the snowmelt from the mountains and the recent thunderstorms had swelled the stream to its full potential. The surface of the water was only about four meters underneath the bridge, and a little less than that below Logan’s dangling feet.

Logan had climbed over the railing to sit on the ledge at the bottom of the bridge. His hands held onto the railing tightly. The ledge was only about six inches wide. If he let go of the bars and leaned forward just slightly, he would fall. Sometimes, he liked to let go with one hand and stretch the other out as far as he could. He knew it was dangerous, but the swooping sensation in his stomach was so much better than feeling  _ nothing _ . So it was worth it.

Today was a bit different than all the other times he had come here. Today, he had come to see if he could push the  _ other _ feelings away using that technique. But it didn’t work. The frantic, unyielding thoughts that had been swirling around for days, ever since he had done it, still didn’t stop.

Because a week ago, Logan had dropped out of college. After a semester and a half, he had just...quit. Showed up at his father’s house with a couple suitcases and without any explanation. He still didn’t have one--at least, not one that was acceptable to either him or his father. He had buried himself in his bed under as many blankets as he could find and stared blankly at the ceiling. That whole week, he didn’t leave the bed for anything except to go to the bathroom and occasionally (not very often) to eat. Until that morning, when he had gotten out of bed, gotten dressed, and slipped out of the house before his father woke up to walk around town all morning and into the afternoon before finally coming to the bridge.

He honestly didn’t know what he was intending to do, but he had a bottle of pills in his pocket and a pretty terrifying whirl of thoughts inside his head.

Logan had always been the smart one. He had a few siblings--who were also smart, but not like him. Not like Logan “perfect math score on the SAT” Andrews. Logan “teacher’s pet” Andrews. Logan “known since he was born that he would go to a four year college right out of high school and then go on to get a master’s degree and then probably a significant number of PhDs” Andrews...who had just dropped out of school.

He had ruined everything. Every plan he had ever had, thrown down the drain. Or out the window.  _ Or off a bridge _ , he thought wryly.

Sure, he could probably re-apply to any college he wanted and get close to full-ride scholarships. He was smart. He had impressive grades, incredible test scores, and he was an excellent writer. But that was the problem. He didn’t  _ want _ to anymore. He didn’t want an education or a job...or a future.

And therein lay the real issue. Logan didn’t want to have a future. When he tried to imagine himself in a year, in five years, in ten, he no longer saw anything he wanted. The potential to live for another seventy years or so no longer seemed like an exciting world full of possibility. It just seemed like a lot of time with only one possible destination, and he really wished that destination could come a lot sooner, because he was  _ tired _ and bored and quite frankly miserable. He had no goals. No ambition anymore. His existence was no longer a potential solution to any problems, it  _ was _ a problem.

He had always seen the world as a sort of complicated equation. Every single person and every decision they made was a variable. Some variables could impact the whole equation if they were changed just slightly. Others could only impact a few other variables and the ripple effect would stop very quickly. Variables could be impacted positively or negatively by other variables. Logan had always viewed himself as having the potential to be a highly positively impactful variable, whether that would be through scientific research or perhaps teaching.

But now, all he could see was that his continued existence as a variable in the world would negatively impact every other variable he came into contact with. His family didn’t need the added burden or disappointment of a college dropout with no future and no desire for one.

Removing himself from the equation seemed like the best option.

So there he sat, on the side of the bridge, leaning out over the water and only holding on with a few fingers. He desperately wanted that sensation in his stomach, the warning that he was going to fall, to make him feel more alive. But he still just felt numb. How long was he going to sit here, waiting, before he  _ did _ something about it?

He would never find out the answer to that question, because coincidence intervened.

There were footsteps on the bridge, the echoing thuds against metal making him flinch and crane his head around. His eyes met those of another young man, his age or perhaps a little younger, who was staring at him.

“Hi,” the person said.

Logan blinked, but said nothing.

“Um...whatcha doing there?”

“Sitting,” Logan replied, wincing internally at the shakiness in his voice.

“You okay?”

Logan opened his mouth, automatically going to say that he was fine. Something about this other boy made him not want to lie, but eventually he forced himself to say, “Yeah.” The word almost broke him. There was a tightness in his throat.

“That doesn’t look like a very safe or comfy place to sit,” the boy said conversationally.

“It’s not.”

“Safe, or comfy?”

“Both,” Logan admitted.

“Why don’t you come back over here, then?” His voice was gentle, kind.

“I’d rather stay here.”

A look of concern flickered through the boy’s soft brown eyes. When he spoke again, his tone was light, trying to joke, but held a sort of solemn seriousness. “You’re not gonna jump, are you?”

“No, I’ve got a bottle of pills in my pocket for that,” Logan said without intending to. Seeing the boy’s eyes widen, he hastened to lie and say, “I’m kidding.”

Logan could tell that the boy didn’t believe him. “Mind if I sit with you for a while?”

“I don’t own the bridge, I can’t stop you.”

The boy sat down with his back against the railing, right next to where Logan’s right hand held onto the bars. He stayed on the inside of the bridge, though. “My name’s Patton,” he said. “My friends and I found this trail a few months ago, but we’ve never seen anyone else here. What about you?”

“I’ve been walking here for years,” Logan answered quietly.

“I wonder why we haven’t bumped into you before?”

“I haven’t been here since last fall. I’ve been at college.”

“Home for a visit?” Patton asked.

Logan felt his breath catch in his throat. His eyes were stinging.  _ Don’t cry, don’t you dare let this boy see you cry _ . “Not...exactly.”

“You want to talk about it?” offered Patton gently.

Logan shook his head. If he talked about it, he would no doubt break down completely. He wished that Patton would just leave him alone so he could get on with it.

“That’s okay. I’ll talk instead. Last week when my friends and I were hanging out a little ways down the trail, we saw a coyote! And there are a lot of feral cats right around here, too. Some of them are so friendly. It makes me sad that I can’t play with them very much, because I’m allergic. But there’s a brown tabby who had a litter of four kittens a couple weeks ago. They live in a cardboard box that someone left by the edge of the stream, you know that really flat sandy patch? The box is under a bush there, and the mama cat lets my friends and I sit there and if we’re really quiet, she’ll bring her kittens out for us to see.” Patton continued to tell Logan about every single one of the cats that he had met on the trail. Some of them had names. “Ro likes to name them after Disney characters. The ones I get to name, I like making them out of cat puns! There’s a white cat I named Purrl, and there’s Meownster Truck--he’s really big--and…”

After he had apparently exhausted everything he could say about the cats, Patton moved on to talk about the classes he was taking (he was a senior in high school). He seemed very enthusiastic about his home ec class, though he mentioned that some people were teasing him because he was the only boy in the class who hadn’t been forced to take it as an elective requirement.

For the first time since Patton had started talking, Logan spoke. “Don’t pay any attention to them. People who wish to make you feel bad about a passion are always insecure about themselves.”

“Yeah,” Patton said. “I know, kiddo. I feel sorry for them.”

“‘Kiddo?’” Logan echoed.

Patton shrugged. “I don’t know your name.”

_ And I’m not going to tell you. _ “Okay.”

“So…” Patton hesitated. “Do you want to come back over on this side now? I keep feeling worried that you’re going to fall.”

“Like I said,” Logan muttered. “I’d rather stay here. But you don’t have to.”

Patton was quiet for a minute. “I...I don’t know what’s going on in your life, kiddo,” he said softly. “But I can see that you’re unhappy. Something tells me that you’re feeling a bit hopeless. Probably lonely, too. You’re not in a good place right now.”

Logan took a deep, shuddery breath, still trying to hold himself together.

“I’m not going to leave you all alone,” murmured Patton. “I’m gonna stay here, because I don’t think it would be good if I left.”

“You don’t even know me,” Logan forced past the lump in his throat. “Why do you care?”

“Caring...it’s what I’m good at. And I want to make sure that you’re safe.”

“You shouldn’t care about me. I don’t want more variables to impact.”

“Okay, I’m not sure exactly what that means, honey. I’m not very good at algebra.” Patton smiled at him kindly.

Logan did his best to explain the variable theory. Patton listened attentively, nodding. “And some…” Logan’s voice broke as he tried to finish. “Some variables are better...removed from the equation.”

“And you think you’re one of those variables,” Patton said. When Logan nodded, holding back a sob, Patton reached through the bars and touched his shoulder. “Can I tell you a story, kiddo?”

“Sure.”

“My best friend, he thought that, too. A couple years ago. He was planning on removing himself from the equation, as well. He put it off for a week, because it was his mother’s birthday and he didn’t want to do that to her. And during that week, I was taking a walk with my dog. Now, I hadn’t met my friend yet. He and I just happened to be on the same street at the same time, when a really drunk person in a car drove up onto the sidewalk. And he grabbed me and pulled me--and my dog--out of the way of the car. If he hadn’t been there, we would have been crushed between the car and the house it hit.” Patton was rubbing Logan’s shoulder now, moving his thumb back and forth. “And we were standing there, both shaking. I had picked up my dog and I was trying not to cry because I had been so scared. The driver was so drunk that he had passed out, and some people were coming out of their houses and calling 911 and asking us if we were okay. And Virgil--my friend--he threw himself at me and hugged me. We had never talked to each other before, even though we go to the same school. But he hugged me, and he started to cry. And he started apologizing.”

“Why?” Logan asked hoarsely. He had given up on trying to stop his tears from falling. “He...if he saved your life, why would he apologize?”

Patton squeezed Logan’s shoulder. “Because if he hadn’t waited that week, he wouldn’t have been there. He apologized because he had almost missed me. And here I am, still, because he chose to stay in the equation. You can’t predict every variable. You don’t know what, or  _ who _ , you’re gonna miss, kiddo.”

Suddenly, Logan was sobbing. He held onto the railing tightly, feeling the way his body shook, afraid that he was going to fall. Patton’s hand disappeared from his shoulder but then his arm was wrapped around Logan’s waist to hold him securely against the railing.

“I’ve got you,” Patton said. “I’ve got you, kiddo. Can you  _ please _ come back over to the other side now?”

Logan found himself nodding and standing up on the ledge. He had done it dozens of times before, but he was grateful that Patton kept holding onto him. He was still trembling with the force of his tears, and he almost slipped a few times before he got back over the railing and collapsed onto his knees on the bridge. He reached into his pocket. Holding the medicine bottle in his hand and staring at it, he doubled over and kept crying.

He felt Patton gently pry it away from him without saying a word.

“Sorry,” Logan whispered. “I lied, when I told you I was kidding. I…”

“Shhh, shhh,” Patton soothed. “I knew you were lying. It’s okay.” His hand rested on Logan’s back. “Hey, do you have someone to call? Someone you want to talk to?”

“N-no,” said Logan. “I c-c-can’t call m-my father, he w-wouldn’t...and I d-don’t h-have anyone.”

“I texted my friends, they’re coming here. I hope that’s okay. I wasn’t sure...well, I thought we might need them.”

Logan couldn’t find any words to respond. He was crying too hard to speak, anyway. Patton took his hand and rubbed his back.

“Breathe,” Patton said. “Breathe, kiddo. You’re gonna be okay.”

As Logan kept sobbing, he eventually found himself cradled in Patton’s arms. He was absolutely mortified to be seen like this, to be losing it in the arms of a complete stranger. But Patton was showing him so much kindness. He hadn’t realized that it was possible for someone to be this kind to someone they didn’t know.

He stopped crying after a while. A combination of exhaustion, running out of tears, and the gentle comfort and soothing words that Patton continued to offer him left him sniffling but not sobbing. He was about to sit up, embarrassed, but Patton’s hold on him tightened slightly.

“You can stay right here,” Patton whispered to him. “It’s really okay.”

Logan gave in. He continued to lean against Patton’s chest, covering his face.  _ I wish I could stay here forever, just hiding. Never having to face the world again. _

“Do you have somewhere you want to go?” Patton asked him. “I’ll go with you, if you want.”

“I don’t have anywhere,” Logan mumbled. “I...I don’t wish to go home.”

“Do you...sorry, you don’t have to answer this, but do you not have a...a safe home life? You mentioned that you didn’t want to call your father.”

“It’s not like that. I just...he doesn’t understand. And he is angry at me, for something that I did.”

“Would you like to tell me about it?”

Logan sniffed. “I dropped out of college without telling him,” he admitted. “And I had no alternative plans.”

“Ah,” Patton said.

“Because I never had any other option, no other pathway available for me when I was growing up, I always just  _ assumed _ that I would go to college and do perfectly fine. But I hated it.” Logan had gotten his emotions under control again, and he wasn’t going to cry anymore. Still, he appreciated Patton’s continued soft caressing of his back and shoulders. It was grounding and calming. “I hate sitting in desks. I hate lectures. And you can’t just take the tests and get credit for the class. And the  _ people _ , god, the people are all unbearable. Pretentious, stuck-up...and that’s coming from  _ me _ .”

“I don’t think you’re stuck-up.”

“That’s because you somehow managed to catch me being emotional. It doesn’t happen often.” Logan sighed. “So I just...left. Filled out a withdrawal form and got on a train and showed up back at home. But now that I’m here, I need to get a job, because I can’t stay in my father’s house--I think I would go insane after a month back there. But I don’t wish to  _ have _ a job, and I don’t want a future.”

“If you could do anything--without considering money, or education, and there’s no need to be realistic--what would you choose to do?” Patton asked him. He finally let Logan sit up so they could look at each other, but held onto his hands.

Logan didn’t have to think about it. “I want to teach,” he said. “But I can’t handle five years of college to get an education degree. I would die. And sometimes I don’t even know that I want to do  _ anything _ . I just can’t see what it’s all for.”

“You know,” Patton said thoughtfully, “I’m pretty sure a lot of--how old are you? Eighteen? Nineteen?”

“Eighteen.”

“I’m pretty sure a lot of eighteen-year-olds aren’t too sure about what it’s all for. I mean, really, I doubt  _ anyone _ is sure,” mused Patton.

“But I don’t see a  _ point _ to it all,” Logan said, frustrated.

“Aren’t you  _ curious _ , though? Don’t you want to know what people are gonna do next?” Patton asked. “What the next scientific advancements are gonna bring? Someone might breed a brand-new, adorable type of dog. Someone else might find the cure for cancer. And there might be a really good cake at the next birthday party you go to. Isn’t it enough just to see it all happen?”

“I…”

“You know, I see a lot of people these days who are trying to carry the whole world on their shoulders. Who want their...variable to be so influential that they can make everything better. They don’t stop to think about how it’s okay to just  _ be _ . That sometimes, just  _ being _ is just as important as the big  _ doing _ .” Patton ran his hand through Logan’s hair, then cupped his cheek. He stroked his thumb along Logan’s cheekbone. “It’s okay if you just want to  _ be _ for right now. And it’s okay if you change your mind someday, and you want to  _ do _ again. But trying to force yourself to  _ do _ when you’d rather  _ be _ will only make you unhappy.”

Logan exhaled slowly. Patton had managed to put something into words that Logan hadn’t even realized he needed to hear. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Um...what about you? What do you want to do, or...or be?”

“I just want to be able to help people,” Patton told him. “I don’t know exactly what that means yet, or what I’m going to do, but that’s okay. I might be a foster parent. I’ve thought about being a psychologist, too. Or a social worker.”

“You would…” Logan cleared his throat. “You’d be good at any of those.”

“Thanks.” Patton smiled. “Hey, so when my friends get here, they’ll probably want me to introduce you. And, uh, I can’t do a very good job of that if I don’t know your name?”

_ Right _ . “Logan,” he said. “My name is Logan.”

“Hi, Logan, nice to meet you.” Patton squeezed his hand. “I know you don’t want to go home, but if you wanted, you could come back to my house? My parents are out of town this weekend, and my friends are staying with me and my little sibling.”

Logan tilted his head. “But you don’t...know me,” he said, echoing his words from earlier.

“Sure I do. You’re my friend Logan. Plus, the more, the merrier, right?”

Once again, Logan was absolutely blown away by Patton’s kindness. “I left my phone at home,” he stated.

“You can borrow one of ours if you need to call your father or something. I made some cookie dough yesterday, it’s in the fridge, and we can bake it. Cookies always make me feel better. And we’re already planning on having a Disney movie marathon tonight. We’ve all picked our favorites, we could add another one,” Patton said. “We’d have to start a little earlier than planned, because I’m supposed to have Elliot--my baby sibling, they’re twelve--in bed before 11:30.”

“You really are inviting me to your house, aren’t you?” Logan marvelled.

“Yep!”

Logan couldn’t find any reason to say no. In fact, he really wanted to say yes. He had a feeling that it would be better for him to not be alone for a while, and he suddenly realized that he was hungry. Fresh-baked cookies sounded amazing. “I think I will accept the offer,” Logan mumbled.

Patton smiled happily. “Great! Hold on.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed something quickly. “My friends have been waiting a little ways away, I didn’t want them to show up too early and overwhelm you. But they’ll be here in a minute.”

A little nervous, Logan leaned back against the railing of the bridge. “Do I look too much like I’ve been crying?” he asked.

“Well…” Patton hesitated. “You’ve definitely got a bit of puffiness.”

“Wonderful.”

“But it’s okay, I promise. They won’t mind, or make fun of you or anything. My friends are amazing, you’ll love them.”

A voice called from around the bend in the path. “Yo, padre, you out here?”

“Over here!” Patton called back. He stood up, still holding Logan’s hand. “Can you stand up?” he added softly.

Logan nodded and let Patton help him to his feet. He was a little shaky, but he regained his balance as two people came around the bend and onto the bridge. One was wearing a bright red t-shirt that read “Royal Pain in the Ass (and proud of it)”. The other had on a black hoodie and ripped skinny jeans, a bit of eyeshadow smudged under his eyes to give the impression that he hadn’t slept in a week.

“Hi, kiddos!” Patton said. “This is Logan. He’s gonna be joining us tonight. And Logan, this is Roman, he goes to the community college. This is Virgil, he’s a junior at my school.”

“Sup,” Virgil said, giving Logan a tiny nod and a glance that was almost...sympathetic.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Roman said, holding his hand out with a flourish.

Logan shook his hand, finding it difficult to say anything.

“Roman, I thought I told you not to wear that shirt around Elliot,” Patton said scoldingly. “They’re only twelve!”

“They know the word ‘ass’, Patton,” retorted Roman. “They’re in middle school, they probably know a lot more than that, too.”

They started walking back down the path together. Patton kept his arm around Logan’s waist while he and Roman bickered good-naturedly. Logan appreciated that they weren’t trying to talk to him. His eyes were tired from crying, and he let them drift partially shut, knowing that Patton was guiding him down the path and wouldn’t let him fall or bump into anything. At the end of the path, they all ducked underneath the thorn bushes and stepped out onto the sidewalk. A red car was parked on the side of the road, which Roman unlocked.

“Pile in,” he said.

“Shotgun,” mumbled Virgil.

So Logan climbed into the backseat next to Patton. Virgil and Roman argued about the music for so long that they had reached their destination before a single song could be played. “They do that all the time,” Patton whispered, getting out of the car. “Well, here’s my house! It’s not big or fancy or anything, but it’s home.”

The front yard of the small house was a garden instead of a lawn. It was planted with a large number of plants that Logan recognized as being good for local pollinators. Sure enough, the yard was buzzing (literally) with bees. Logan almost smiled. He liked bees.

The inside of the house was lovely, too. Pretty blue curtains adorned each of the plentiful windows which let in the bright sunlight. There was a cream colored couch and loveseat set in the living room off to the right of the door, and a kitchen just beyond it. A kid (Logan assumed that was Elliot) was sitting at the kitchen table, some papers spread out in front of them.

“Hey, Ellie, we’re home, kiddo!” Patton said.

“Cool,” Elliot responded.

“And we brought a new friend. This is Logan! He’s gonna join us for the movie marathon tonight.”

“Cool,” Elliot said again.

Patton rolled his eyes. “Do you know any words other than ‘cool’?”

“...no.”

Logan heard Virgil let out a snort.

“Don’t encourage them,” Patton muttered. “They’re turning into a teenager and they’re still only twelve. You’re only twelve, Elliot! I still have five more months before you turn into an obnoxious teenager, so don’t you dare start now. Also, could you pull the cookie dough out of the fridge?”

“I’m doing homework!” Elliot protested.

“Right. I will be the responsible older sibling and not tell you to stop doing your homework to make cookies with me,” Patton sighed. “Keep doing your work, kiddo.”

Roman had immediately gone over to sprawl across the entire couch. “Oh, c’mon now, if you’re not gonna be a bad influence on them, how will they ever learn to fight the system?”

“Roman, I’m an adopted, nonbinary twelve-year-old,” Elliot informed him. “I think I’m already fighting the system.”

“Good on ya, too, kid,” Roman said. “Oh--hey! Ow!”

Virgil had sat on top of his stomach, scrolling on his phone. “You’re taking up the whole couch, Princey. What do you expect me to do?”

“Get off me, you great big emo nightmare! There’s a whole loveseat right there!” Roman tried to shove him away. “How are you so skinny and yet so damn heavy?” he grunted.

Logan was still standing in the entryway, not sure exactly what he should be doing.

“Hey, Logan? You okay?” Patton asked him quietly.

“I...would it be alright if I...I’d like to wash my face,” Logan replied, rubbing at his eyes, which he was sure were still red and puffy.

“Sure, of course. Bathroom is right down the hall, first door on the left. Oh, and Logan?” Patton gave him an understanding smile. “Cold washcloth held against your eyes for three minutes while you’re breathing slowly and deeply tends to do the trick.”

Logan looked at him gratefully.

“I’ll get out the cookie dough so we can put them in the oven when you come back out,” Patton added. “Okay?”

“Alright,” Logan said. Truly trying to find a way to express his gratitude, he reached out and squeezed Patton’s hand quickly before turning and walking down the hallway and into the bathroom. He closed the door and looked at himself in the mirror with a heavy sigh. Sure enough, his nose and eyes were swollen and red. He looked even paler than he normally did, probably from staying in bed for the past week. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, leaning on the counter.

The reality of what he had almost done hit him suddenly and without warning. He gasped for air like he had been punched in the stomach. Gripping the countertop until his knuckles turned white, he tried to calm himself down. He turned on the faucet, took off his glasses, and splashed water onto his face quickly. After a minute, he could breathe again, but he was still trembling. He opened a couple of drawers before he found a folded stack of washcloths and got one wet, then sank down onto the floor to hold it across his eyes.  _ Breathe slowly and deeply _ , Patton’s voice echoed in his head. He stayed there for longer than the three minutes that Patton had suggested.

There was a soft knock on the door. “Hey,” Patton said. “You doing okay in there?”

“I’m alright,” Logan answered. “I’ll be out in a minute, I...I apologize.”

“No need, I just wanted to make sure you were okay, kiddo. Take as long as you need, okay?”

“Thanks.” Logan took a deep breath and stood up, taking the washcloth off his eyes. A glance in the mirror told him that he looked a lot better, so he put his glasses back on. He draped the washcloth over a towel bar and opened the door. Patton was still standing there.

“Feel any better?” Patton asked him.

“I’m alright,” repeated Logan.

Patton was looking at his face closely, probably examining him to see if the washcloth trick had worked. Then he gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Logan said, alarmed.

“Nothing! We just have the same glasses!”

Startled, Logan looked at the frames of Patton’s glasses. Sure enough, they were identical to his. “It appears that you are correct,” Logan said.

“That’s really cool!”

Logan wasn’t sure why Patton was getting so excited about this, but he wasn’t going to rain on his parade. “Well, yes, anyway. I do feel better, though...I had a bit of a, um, moment in there. But I am alright now.”

Patton touched his arm. “You sure?”

He nodded decisively. “I am sure.”

“Okay, well, come on out here, then. I put the cookie balls that were in the fridge into the oven, but I decided that wasn’t quite enough so I’m making a couple more kinds. Have you got a favorite kind of cookie?” Patton asked as he led Logan into the kitchen.

“Anything is fine,” Logan answered.

“Okay, great! We’ve got regular chocolate chip in the oven, and I’m making some snickerdoodle batter right now--mostly ‘cause I like the word. And because I’m feeling dangerous, I’m making some chocolate cookies with white chocolate chips.” Patton went right over to the counter, where he had a bunch of ingredients and an electric mixer.

“Patton,” Elliot whined. “Paaaat, can you help me with my homework?”

“That depends. Is it math?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you honestly should know better than to ask me, kiddo,” Patton told them. “Sorry. If it’s more complicated than the multiplication table, I can’t help ya.”

Elliot whined again.

Logan bit his lip. “May I see if I can be of assistance?” he offered. “What sort of math are you doing?”

“It’s pre-algebra,” Elliot muttered. “And it’s stupid and I hate it.”

“On the contrary, I believe that if you think it is stupid, it is not being taught to you correctly.” Logan went over to the table. “May I?”

“Sure,” Elliot sighed. “You can’t make it worse.”

Logan pulled out the chair next to Elliot, sat down, and began to look at their homework papers. “Oh, you’re doing factoring! Well, that is some fascinating material right there,” he said.

“It doesn’t make any sense.”

“We can figure it out together, then. I promise I’ll make it make more sense, alright?”

Elliot gave him a skeptical look, but shrugged. “Okay. Go for it.”

About ten minutes later, Logan had patiently explained the problems in three different ways before he finally received an, “Ohhhhh...I think I get it” from the kid. He swelled with pride. Forget the adrenaline rush of leaning out over a potentially deadly drop into a water-filled ravine--helping someone understand something they previously couldn’t was the best feeling Logan could imagine.

“Show me on the next problem,” Logan told them, trying to hide his smile.

Elliot could solve the next problem easily. They got stuck on the one after that, but a quick explanation from Logan got them back on the right track. Now that Logan understood how the kid learned, it was easy to explain things to them. And Elliot was bright. They picked up the concepts quickly, and Logan found himself showing them a few more advanced tricks. He wasn’t sure if Elliot really understood when he demonstrated how to derive the quadratic formula, but it elicited a mumble of, “That’s pretty cool, I guess”, so they must have gotten something out of it.

There was a tap on Logan’s shoulder. He turned his head to see Patton holding out a plate with a few cookies on it. For some reason, his eyes looked a little watery. “Just took the chocolate chip cookies out,” he said. “They’re still hot.”

Elliot grabbed a cookie and turned back to their next problem. “Thanks, Patty,” they said.

Logan smiled and accepted a cookie. He was a bit confused and flustered when Patton wrapped him in a swift hug from behind, but by the time he had made his way out of the stunned stillness and turned around, Patton had already returned to the counter where he was rolling the snickerdoodles into a bowl of cinnamon sugar.

“My brother likes you,” Elliot said casually. “He must think you need help, ‘cause he’s making a lot of cookies for you. He always does that when he thinks someone is sad.”

“Well, he is not entirely wrong about that. I did need his help earlier, and...he gave it to me.”

“Why? What happened?” Elliot wondered.

“Ellie, don’t pry!” Patton chastised.

“Patton’s right, that is not something we need to talk about right now,” Logan said quickly. He really didn’t want to have to explain to this kid that he was actively suicidal a couple hours ago. “Next problem?”

When Elliot finished their homework, they turned to Logan and said, “Maybe it’s just that my current math teacher is an absolute nightmare, but you are a better teacher than any other teacher I’ve ever had.”

Logan’s eyes widened. He had just taken a bite of another cookie and he started coughing, trying not to choke. “Oh--uh, thank you, Elliot, I’m glad I could help,” he managed as a concerned Patton brought him a glass of water.

“You good there?” Elliot asked, slightly amused. “Need the Heimlich, or…”

“Rude child,” Patton scolded, tapping the top of their head. “Don’t tease Logan after he was so nice helping you with your homework.”

“Uh-huh.” Elliot ducked away. “Since I finished my homework, can we start the movie marathon early?”

“Hell yeah!” Roman called from the living room.

Patton sputtered. “Roman Prince! You put a dollar in the swear jar, or you’re not getting a single cookie!”

Roman grumbled loudly and then said, “Make it an IOU, ‘cause Virgil is still sitting on top of me and he won’t freakin’ move.”

Elliot gathered up all of their homework and shoved it into their binder, heading down the hall to put it away.

Dropping into Elliot’s abandoned seat, Patton grabbed Logan’s hand. His expression was ernest, and his eyes were getting a little teary again. “Hey, Logan?” he said, very quietly, like he didn’t want anyone else to hear. “You’re an amazing teacher.”

Logan shrugged and didn’t meet his eyes.

“No, no, look at me. Logan, I have never seen Elliot respond to anyone like that. I don’t know how you did it, but oh, my goodness, you are something special, kiddo.” Patton’s lower lip quivered as he continued, “I...I’m really glad that you didn’t miss this.”

“I am also glad that I could...be here, to help your sibling,” Logan mumbled, wishing that the conversation wasn’t getting so emotional.

“I just…” Patton pulled his glasses off to wipe his eyes quickly. “Ah, look at me. I’m sorry, I know I’m being silly.”

“I don’t think you’re being silly,” Logan said.

“Can I hug you?” Patton blurted out. “Please?”

Logan hesitated, then nodded, and Patton pulled him into a tight embrace.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am that you’re still here,” Patton whispered in his ear. “Keep sticking around, okay?”

“I will try,” Logan said honestly.

Patton squeezed him tighter. “And I’m gonna help you as much as I can. You’re not getting rid of me now.”

“He’s telling the truth,” another voice said, and Logan pulled back from Patton’s hug to see Virgil standing against the wall. “He doesn’t let go of people, even if they run away. He will find you, and he will keep you in this family whether you’re willing or not.”

“Okay, Virge, you’re making me sound all scary,” Patton mumbled. He wiped his eyes again.

“Patton, you are the most terrifying person I know,” Virgil said bluntly. “The world is only saved from destruction because you turned your stubbornness and determination towards aggressively loving people instead of hurting them.” He glanced at Logan. “Just warning you, man. This is what you’re getting into.”

“It’s true,” Roman added from the other room. “Patton is what happens when a Slytherin pretends to be a Hufflepuff.”

“If he decides to care about you, he will not stop,” Virgil said.

“Yeah, he met me when I was five and he liked me so much he made our parents actually adopt me,” Elliot said as they came back into the kitchen.

“Ellie, that’s not exactly what…” Patton let out a sigh. “Alright, fine. I plead guilty to all of it. Let’s start the movie marathon.” He pulled Logan to his feet. “But first, everyone find something more comfortable to wear. Logan, come with me.” Leading Logan down the hallway and into a room, he said, “Pajamas are a must for our movie marathons. Personally, I usually go with my cat onesie.”

“I thought you said you were allergic to cats?” Logan asked, looking around the room and taking in the light blue walls and strings of heart-shaped fairy lights.

“I am.”

“So...why the cat onesie?”

Patton had been ruffling through the clothes in his closet and pulled out a grey onesie. “I like cats!” he said happily. “Hm. I’ve got a unicorn onesie, too, would you like to wear it?”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh…”

“Too late, you’re wearing it.” Patton shoved the onesie at him. It was white, with some rainbow accents and a hood with a soft, plush unicorn horn.

Resigning to his fate, Logan took it. “Patton?” he said timidly. “Can I use your phone? I...I really should call my father.”

Patton’s expression softened. “Of course, kiddo. Here.” He handed Logan his cell phone. “It’s unlocked. You can stay in here and have some privacy to change and make the call. And we’ll be waiting out in the living room with some hot chocolate for you, okay?”

“Thank you,” Logan said. “For...for all of this.”

“Anytime, kiddo. Anytime.” Patton left the room, closing the door quietly.

Logan decided to put the onesie on first. Sure, he might look and feel absolutely ridiculous, but it also felt very soft and warm, and he kind of thought he might need that sort of comfort for this phone call. Then he sat down on the edge of Patton’s bed, on top of the beautiful log cabin quilt, and dialed his father’s cell phone number.

“Hello, this is Rick Andrews,” his father said.

“Father, it’s Logan.”

“Logan! Where the hell have you been?” His father sounded worried as well as angry, so that was something, at least.

“I’m--” Logan realized suddenly that he didn’t know what to tell him. That he had almost killed himself? That he was now wearing a unicorn onesie at the house of someone he had just met that day? “I am spending some time with a few friends.”

“Friends?” his father repeated doubtfully. “Logan, you don’t  _ have _ friends.”

That stung more than it should have since his father was right; he  _ had _ never had any friends. “Nevertheless,” Logan said shortly. “That is what I am doing. And I’m not entirely sure when I will be back home.”

“Well, try to come back with either a job or an acceptance letter into a new school, because you have to be doing  _ something _ other than laying in bed or hanging out with ‘friends’.”

“I’ll do my best.” His hands shook as he hung up abruptly. He was breathing too quickly. The thought of telling his father what had actually happened that day was frightening. How would he possibly react? He would probably just get angrier, tell Logan he had no right to be thinking of doing such a thing, couldn’t he stop being selfish for once--

Like it had in the bathroom earlier, the realization struck him almost violently. He nearly dropped Patton’s phone as he slid off the bed and onto the floor with a thud.  _ I could be dead, _ he thought.  _ I would be dead, if it wasn’t for _ \--

“Patton,” he called through gasping breaths. His voice broke. “Patton!”

The door opened, like Patton had been waiting right outside. He rushed over to Logan and knelt down next to him. He was wearing the cat onesie already. “Logan? Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Was it the phone call? Is everything okay?”

Logan shook his head.

“Which question?”

“I--” Logan let out a dry sob. “I’m afraid,” he managed.

Patton made a sound of sympathy and worry. “Why, honey? You’re okay, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”

“Hey, is everything okay back--” Virgil broke off as he looked into Patton’s room. “...here…” he finished.

“Oh--actually, Virge, come in here, can you? I think you might be able to help.” Patton held Logan’s hand and sat down.

“What’s wrong?” Virgil asked. He approached cautiously.

Logan closed his eyes, hardly able to get a breath in.

“I’m not...entirely sure, but it seems like he might be having a panic attack,” Patton said.

“Okay, yeah, I can probably help with that. Logan? Logan, look at me. Open your eyes, focus on me.” Virgil’s voice, which had previously been nothing but sarcasm, was now gentle and serious. “Look at me, Logan.”

Forcing his eyes open, Logan tried to focus on the boy in front of him.

“Logan, I know you barely know me, but just for right now, can you trust me?”

Logan nodded.

“Okay, good. Logan, you need to stop hyperventilating. I know it seems counterintuitive, and you’re not gonna want to do it, but hold your breath for seven seconds. Okay?”

_ But--but I need air, _ Logan thought desperately. His chest was burning, and he kept trying to get the oxygen into his lungs.

“I know, I know it’s hard. C’mon, I’ll do it with you. Patton, can you count for us? Logan, hold your breath. Don’t breathe in, don’t breathe out. You’ve got to break the cycle of hyperventilating. Start now.”

Logan held his breath. He saw Virgil doing the same, and heard Patton count to seven.

“Now exhale,” Virgil said, and Patton counted to eight without prompting. Logan exhaled shakily, only taking in a couple of quick, panicked breaths. “Okay, now in, Logan, four seconds, steadily. One, two, three, four.”

The inhalation brought much-needed relief to the burning in his lungs, and he started to breathe out so he could do it again.

“Slow down,” Virgil instructed. “Hold your breath again. Seven seconds. Now out for eight. Now in again.”

Patton was counting the whole time, with a sort of practiced ease. When Logan was finally breathing steadily on his own, Patton stopped counting. “Now, just relax for a minute, Logan,” he said. “Just sit back and breathe, kiddo.”

Virgil nodded, satisfied. “Good job, Logan.”

“Hey, so what prompted this, kiddo?” Patton asked gently. “What made you so scared?”

“Pat, he might not be able to talk just yet,” Virgil said.

Logan swallowed. “No, I can...I can talk,” he whispered. “I apologize for...making a scene.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Besides, it’s nothing Pat and I haven’t dealt with before. But, um, is that something that happens a lot for you?” Virgil asked.

“No, I...I’ve never had s-something exactly like that h-happen,” Logan admitted.

“Well then, congrats. You just had a panic attack. Take deep breaths and drink some water.” Virgil gave him a half-smile. “Let Patton hug you, if you want. It helps.”

“Can I, kiddo?” Patton inquired.

Logan surprised himself by kind of nodding, and leaning over to rest against Patton’s shoulder. Patton’s arms encircled him, rocking him gently. It did make him feel better. Calmer. “I...I found myself hit with the realization of what I nearly did,” he confessed. “For the second time. The first time was in the bathroom just after I arrived.”

“Is that the ‘moment’ you mentioned?” asked Patton.

“Yes. But it was not quite as bad then. I apologize again, I do not understand entirely why I became so afraid.” Logan brought his hand up to push his glasses further up his nose.

“It's a scary thing to think about,” Virgil said softly. “Believe me, I know. I still get those moments sometimes. You just gotta remember that you're still here. Give yourself sensory input to focus on. Something for all five senses.”

“There are seven senses,” Logan corrected automatically.

“Hey, if you want to spin around in circles and feel where your hands are in relation to your head, too, I'm not gonna stop you,” Virgil said. “But seriously, I find that music helps a lot. Focusing on something with vision doesn't work so well for me, but touching something soft or asking for a hug helps.”

“Already doing that,” Logan mumbled. He could barely keep his eyes open for some reason.

“It's also fu…really exhausting,” Virgil said, censoring himself so that Patton didn't scold him. “So if you want to take a nap, you can, like...just do that. We won't make you go back to the living room to watch with us.”

Patton stroked Logan's hair. “Yeah, you can stay in here if you want.”

“I would rather watch the movies, actually. Though I give no promises that I won't fall asleep halfway through the first one.”

“Since Roman’s choice is first today and he picked  _ Cinderella _ , I don't blame you,” Virgil said with a smirk.

“Do you have one to add? We have pretty much every Disney movie ever made,” Patton said.

“I think I'll just…” Logan yawned. “Sleep. Though my favorite Disney movie is  _ Big Hero 6 _ .”

“Aww,” Patton murmured. “An excellent choice. If you're awake and want to, we can definitely watch it, too. Do you want to go out to the living room now?”

Logan stood up with their help. His limbs felt heavy and tired. He was only barely awake as he sat down on the couch and was wrapped in blankets. He stayed awake to eat another cookie and drink the mug of hot chocolate that Roman handed him, which was about thirty minutes into the movie, before he drifted off. Occasionally, he would catch a few seconds of song or dialogue as he slipped in and out of wakefulness, and he was vaguely aware that his head was in Patton's lap. He definitely heard parts of several different movies, and wondered how long he was sleeping for. Then he would fall back into a dark, comfortable sleep with only the faintest sensation of someone stroking his back and playing with his hair.

“Is Elliot asleep?” he heard Patton ask. No movie was playing anymore and Logan woke up slightly. He didn't move, though.

“Yeah, they were out pretty quick.” That was Virgil. “How about Logan?”

“Oh, he's out.” Patton’s fingers combed gently through Logan's hair. “He was so tired, poor kiddo.”

“You really have adopted him, haven't you?” Virgil sighed.

“He's part of the family now,” Patton said simply. “We'll take care of him.”

“Let's get him into a bed, though, yeah?” Roman said.

“Don't you dare wake him,” Patton warned.

“I'll be very gentle, I promise.” Roman was suddenly lifting Logan up off the couch.

“And don't drop him!” Patton added worriedly.

“Are you kidding? The guy weighs nothing. Scrawny dude.” Roman carried him down the hallway. Logan forced himself not to open his eyes or tense up. If they knew he was awake, they might try to talk to him.

He was placed down on top of a soft sheet. Someone removed his glasses carefully, brushing against his cheek with their hand.

“Are you staying with him?” Virgil whispered.

“Yeah,” Patton said. “I know I'd normally come cuddle in the living room with you guys, but I don't want to leave Logan alone.”

“Think he'll be okay with that?” Roman wondered.

“He just spent several hours curled up with his head in my lap, so I think so. And I'm not gonna wake him up to ask him.” Patton’s weight settled next to Logan, the warmth from his body providing a comfortable temperature as someone else pulled the sheet, comforter, and quilt over them.

Sighing softly and keeping his eyes shut,  Logan rolled onto his side. He felt Patton’s arm drape across his waist and heard a soft shushing.

“Stay asleep, stay asleep,” Patton breathed. “Shhh, shhhh…”

“Sleep well, Patty,” Roman said.

“Love you, Ro. Goodnight, Virgil, I love you.”

“Love you,” echoed Virgil and Roman simultaneously.

“Leave the fairy lights on,” Patton requested.

“Can do, padre. Goodnight.” The door closed quietly.

Logan couldn’t think of a time when he had slept with someone else cuddled next to him. It was pleasant. He could hear Patton’s soft breathing. Focusing on it, he fell asleep again.

He woke up abruptly, slightly disoriented. Remembering where he was, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Patton was sprawled out next to him, having flopped onto his stomach at some point during the night. He was snoring lightly. Logan’s glasses were on the bedside table next to him, and Patton’s were on the dresser across the room. Or at least, he thought so, and he confirmed it by putting his glasses on. The clock on the table sharpened into focus.  _ Much better _ . 

It was 6:28 and still mostly dark outside. Logan considered going back to sleep, but then he realized that he was desperately thirsty and got out of bed, slipping out of the room to get a glass of water from the kitchen. His footsteps creaked on the wooden floor as he went to open a cupboard.

“Not running away, I hope?”

Logan jumped and turned around. He couldn’t see where the voice was coming from. “I am just getting a glass of water,” he stated.

“That’s alright, I was mostly teasing,” Roman said. “The cups are gonna be in the lower cupboard to the right of the fridge.”

“Thank you,” Logan said. He took out a glass and filled it at the sink. “I hope I didn’t wake you,” he added after taking a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been awake.”

Logan walked down into the living room and was taken by surprise at the sight of Roman lying on the couch with Virgil snuggled half on top of him, wedged between his friend and the back of the couch. Roman was on his phone, but he looked up as Logan sat down on the loveseat.

“I know, he doesn’t seem like much of a cuddler with the dark and stormy exterior, huh?” Roman said, smiling. “But he’s worse than Patton.”

“We aren’t going to wake him by talking?” Logan asked.

“Nah, he’s wearing headphones, see?” Roman pushed back the hood of Virgil’s sweatshirt to reveal a large pair of headphones. “I don’t know how he can sleep with them on, I’d think they’d be uncomfortable. And he listens to such loud music, it’s not like he’s got Mozart playing through there. But he’s got insomnia, and this is the only way he can get to sleep, so we don’t tease him about it.”

“Ah,” Logan acknowledged. He took another sip of the water.

“You  _ were _ actually just getting water, right? I know I said I was kidding about you running away, but you never can tell with the people Patton brings home.” Roman glanced at Virgil fondly, bringing his arm up to pull the sleeping boy closer. “When Pat brought him home the first time, we woke up and he was gone. Took us a week to find him again, he stopped going to school.”

“Patton didn’t tell me that part,” Logan said. “He did explain how they met, however.”

“I know, he told me.”

“Does…” Logan cleared his throat. “Does it happen often, that Patton, er, brings people home?”

“All the time. I can’t tell you how many times he’s texted me saying that someone got their heart broken or got a bad grade or was being bullied and to come over and prepare a movie night,” Roman said. “Usually, they don’t stick around for too long after they’re okay again, and they're all a little embarrassed that a guy they barely know tried so hard to cheer them up. But sometimes, Patton gets more attached. Especially when he thinks they need more help. Patton lives to help people, it’s his life-blood.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

“And if he does decide to adopt you into his family, you’re here for life.”

“And has he?” Logan said, not quite meaning to.

Roman raised his eyebrows. “Has he…?

“Decided to…’adopt’ me,” Logan clarified.

“Oh, yeah. I have a feeling that he latched onto you the moment he saw you yesterday. I haven’t seen him quite like this since...well, since Virgil came into our lives.” Roman ruffled Virgil’s hair lightly. Virgil mumbled something and nestled closer to him, burying his face in Roman’s chest.

“What about you?” Logan queried. “Did he adopt you, as well?”

“I suppose we adopted each other. I was in eighth grade and Patton in seventh when we met.”

“You didn’t push him out of the way of a moving car, too, did you?” Logan asked with a dry smile.

Roman laughed. “No, no. Actually, both of us were being harassed by a few homophobic assholes of our classmates. I...well, I punched one of them and I might have bitten off a little more than I could chew. I wouldn’t have if it had just been me they were bothering, but they were making a tiny little seventh grader cry. And I admit, I saw myself as a bit of a champion of the suffering back then, a knight in shining armor. Unfortunately, I had no sword or real armor, and I ended up on the losing end of the fight. Patton brought me to the nurse and then took me home with him that afternoon when he saw how worried I was about my parents seeing the bruises. We’ve been inseparable ever since.”

“It’s a good story,” Logan said.

“I guess it is.” Roman sighed and began rubbing Virgil’s back as the boy whimpered and moved in his sleep. “Easy, now,” he whispered. “C’mon, darling, you can make it through the whole night without a bad dream, come on.”

“Does he have nightmares?” Logan asked.

“Nasty ones. Okay--alright, he’s relaxed again. Thank goodness.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Virgil’s head.

Logan remembered how much they were squabbling yesterday and shook his head.  _ These are some very confusing people with whom I have managed to get myself mixed up. _

“Logan?” Roman suddenly sounded extremely serious. “Listen, Patton told both of us about everything that happened. He wasn’t trying to break your trust or invade your privacy by telling us, he just knows that it’s safer the more people who know what’s going on.”

Startled by the sudden change of topic, Logan said, “I...I know.”

“Good. And since you know that, I hope you won't take offense by me saying that I'm very glad that Patton happened to be taking a walk yesterday. And if you ever feel like taking yourself out of the equation again, remember that you would be breaking his heart.” Roman held such intense eye contact that Logan started to feel uncomfortable. “Stay in the equation, Logan. Our family would be incomplete without you now.”

Logan couldn't do anything but nod. He finished off his glass of water, trying to hide how his hands were shaking. Neither he nor Roman said anything more as Virgil yawned and woke up slowly, clearly very comfortable laying next to Roman. He took his headphones off and put his head back down on Roman’s chest with a content sigh.

“Sleep well?” Roman asked.

“Mmm.”

Elliot came out into the kitchen about ten minutes later, pouring themself a bowl of cereal. Like Virgil, they didn’t seem to be much of a morning person and just mumbled something incoherent when Roman greeted them. Before Elliot had even finished their cereal, a flurry of footsteps down the hall announced the incoming arrival of an absolutely frantic Patton. His eyes were wide, his hair messy, and he stared around the room before his gaze landed on Logan and he seemed to deflate.

“Oh, there you are,” he said in a light and cheerful tone that didn’t at all match his panic from a moment before. “Was wondering where you went to, kiddo.”

“I just wanted a glass of water,” Logan said. “I apologize if I worried you.”  _ Why does everyone think I was going to run away? _

“Aw, it’s okay, kiddo. I’m just glad you’re alright.” Patton took a deep breath and seemed to calm the rest of the way down. “Anyone want chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast?”

“Me!” Elliot said.

“Honey, you  _ just _ had a bowl of cereal,” Roman pointed out.

“So? I still want pancakes,” retorted Elliot.

“And pancakes you shall receive,” Patton said. “Anyone else?”

“I would love some pancakes, if Sleeping Beauty here decides he ever wants to move,” Roman said, gesturing at Virgil.

“Not likely,” Virgil muttered.

“Then I might just have to pick up up and carry you to the table, because I am hungry and a prince needs his pancakes.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me.”

“Logan?” Patton asked. “Logan, kiddo, do you want some pancakes too?”

Suddenly, Logan felt extremely guilty. He had taken up so much of these people’s time. He really should be leaving. But he didn’t want to go home, where his father would inevitably start pressuring him to make decisions about his future, and he was  _ not _ ready for that yet. So he said, “Pancakes would be wonderful, Patton. I am not sure how long I can stay, however, and I don’t wish to overstay my welcome.”

“Impossible, kiddo. Roman can tell you, your welcome at the Sanders household doesn’t have a time limit.”

“UNLIMITED!” Roman sang all of the sudden, in a loud, booming chest voice that made Virgil raise his head in alarm and irritation. “OUR FUTURE IS UNLIMITED!”

“It’s way too early for show tunes, Princey,” Virgil groaned.

“Never too early for art, my sweet sullen raincloud. AND TOGETHER WE’LL BE THE GR---umph!” Roman made an offended sound as Virgil covered his mouth.

“That’s better,” Virgil stated.

Patton giggled and went up into the kitchen to prepare the pancakes.

Logan placed his empty water glass on the table and closed his eyes. The leftover scent of the cookies that had been baked yesterday still hung in the air. A weight settled on the loveseat next to him and he opened his eyes to see Elliot sitting beside him. “Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” they replied. “I have a question.”

“Alright, go ahead and ask it,” Logan said, wondering what the kid could possibly want to know.

“Can you maybe help me with my homework again? ‘Cause we’re starting a new chapter in math next week and I just  _ know _ that I’m not gonna understand it and Ms. Darcy doesn’t explain things like you do and I just don’t want to fail another test,” Elliot blurted out. “And Mom keeps saying she might get me a tutor but I didn’t  _ want  _ someone I don’t know as a tutor, and the peer tutors are all patronizing and mean. And I like you.”

“Oh.” Logan honestly felt like his brain was about to short-circuit, and Elliot was gazing at him with big, pleading brown eyes.  _ They like me? This kid wants my help?  _ “I...I’m not sure…”

“Hey, Logan?” Patton called. “I actually suggested the possibility to them, and I’ve spoken to our parents, who say that they’ll pay you the going rate for a private tutor. You don’t have to, of course, but I just thought...well, you were saying how you need a job, and honestly you worked so well with Elliot that I’m pretty sure you could get more students, and our mom works for the school district office, she can help spread the word. Plus, it would give you an excuse to come over here more often, so I get to see you again!”

“I…” Logan was almost ready to cry again, for the second time in two days. “Yes, yes, Elliot, I can come back and help you with your homework. I would love to.”

Elliot smiled broadly and launched themself at Logan to hug him. “Thank you! You’re the best!”

The excited embrace stunned Logan for a moment and he froze before slowly bringing his arms up to hug the kid in return. Elliot squeezed tighter, and Logan felt a few tears starting to form in his eyes.  _ To think, I almost...I almost missed them. _ Not wanting Elliot to see him cry, Logan held his breath so he didn’t shake with a sob.

It didn’t work. Elliot pulled back and looked at him for a minute before calling out, “Patton? Logan’s crying!”

“No, no, I am absolutely fine,” Logan attempted. He wiped his eyes quickly, but Patton was already rushing over from the kitchen. “Patton, I’m fine.”

Patton didn’t believe him. “Ellie, go make sure the pancakes don’t burn, okay? I’ll take care of him.” The kid hopped up and ran to the kitchen while Patton took their spot next to Logan. “Hey, hey, what’s up?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan could tell that Virgil and Roman were trying not to pay attention to what was happening. “Really, Patton, I’m quite alright.” The tears that insisted upon leaking out of his eyes said otherwise.

“Uh-huh, sure you are, sure you are,” Patton murmured seriously. “Was it the idea about tutoring? Or was it just Elliot, I know they can be a bit enthusiastic sometimes--”

“No,” Logan choked out. “No, they were just fine. And the idea was...it’s wonderful. You’re wonderful. I cannot begin to tell you how much the kindness you’ve shown means to me. Truly.”

Patton gave him a gentle, kind, understanding smile. “It’s okay, kiddo. I get it.”

“I wish I was better with words,” Logan muttered.

“No, that’s okay. Your thing is math.”

Logan inhaled sharply. “You’re right,” he said. “Patton, you are entirely right. And your variable, Patton, it’s...it’s in our exponent. You are an exponent of zero.”

Patton squinted at him. “Huh?”

“You…” Logan struggled to explain. “You know, squaring and cubing and so forth? An exponent on the outside of a set of parentheses holds a huge amount of influence over what is on the inside of the parentheses. A positive exponent multiplies the base by itself however many times to which the power says, a negative one divides the base by itself in the same manner. So the exponent has the most drastic impact on the rest of the equation, and it comes at the very end of the order of operations to transform the contents of the equation into something new.”

“Okay, I’m just barely following you, kiddo, but I think I’m understanding the concept.” Patton seemed intrigued. “Keep going, I’m listening.”

“Everyone in this room, you have affected to an incredible degree. When you enter the equations of our lives, despite all other factors, you transform us all into the same thing. Only one type of exponent can do that, and that is the power of zero. Since it is one less than one, an exponent of zero divides the contents by itself once, always leading to the same answer no matter what the base is. One.” Logan sat back, satisfied that he had gotten his point across.

But Patton still looked confused. “I...turned you all into ones? I don’t think I know what that’s supposed to mean, Logan, I’m sorry.”

_ Oh, of course! Idiot! _ “No, it’s my fault, I forgot to explain that part. I said, ‘you transform us all into the same thing’. It’s...well, it is a metaphor, I suppose.”

“It’s a  _ math _ -aphor,” Patton giggled. Then he frowned. “But what is the thing I transform you into? I still don’t quite get it.”

“Family,” Logan said simply. “You’ve all been trying to tell me this. You turn everyone to whom you choose to apply your power into family. And that is why you are an exponent of zero, Patton, because you treat every base--every  _ person _ \--equally, and then they are all the same. They are all your family.  _ We _ ...are all your family.”

Patton burst into tears. “D-darn r-right you a-are,” he said through his sobs. “And d-don’t you ever f-forget it.”

Alarmed, Logan reached out to pat his shoulder. “Oh. I apologize, Patton, it wasn’t my intention to make you cry.”

Patton threw his arms around Logan, crying in great heaving gasps. “D-don’t apologize, L-Logan, that was b-beautiful.”

“Oh, okay, alright,” Logan said, not sure what to do.

“Shh, just hug him and go along with it,” Virgil advised him.

Logan nodded at him and embraced Patton in return. “I am grateful that you entered my equation when you did,” he said softly.

“I’m g-glad I did, too, kiddo,” Patton replied. “And I w-want y-you to stay in  _ m-my _ equation for a g-good, long t-time, okay?”

“I will,” Logan assured him. “I will.”

Elliot called loudly from the kitchen and said, “If you guys are done with all that mushy stuff, the pancakes are ready!”

Patton’s sobs turned to laughter as he called back, “We’ll be right there, kiddo!” He released Logan reluctantly, mopping up his tears with the long sleeves of the cat onesie he was still wearing. “Ready for breakfast?” he asked Logan.

“Absolutely,” Logan answered.  _ Ready for breakfast, and ready for the rest of my life. _ He could look towards the future and, instead of seeing a trap, he saw possibility again in the complex numerals and symbols that charted out a human life. He saw his own equation crossing with everyone else’s in the room, and was glad that he had stayed.

He didn’t want to miss anything.

**Author's Note:**

> My original notes at the end of the Tumblr post:
> 
> I don’t actually have much to add today. I think Patton said it all in the story. I hope that this was enjoyable to read, and that some of these words resonated with you in some way.
> 
> Being at a crossroad in your life, making changes, having your whole world turned upside down (whether by choice or not) can be terrifying. A lot of people around my age (which I think a lot of us in this community are, give or take a few years) might be struggling to figure out what they want to do with their life. And that can be really hard–especially if like me, they are anxious, small, sad, and have no ambition or money. So like Patton said–remember that it is okay if you just want to be. Your life has intrinsic worth even if you feel like you aren’t doing anything “worthwhile”. You matter.
> 
> If you’re reading this, then you’re part of the Fander family. You’re certainly a part of my family. So don’t you forget it. Stay in my equation, because you make my life so much better. I love you. I love you.
> 
> A huge thanks to my friend and beta @a-lexicon-of-words for reading this over very late last night and crying about it with me. Love you, pal.
> 
> Keep sticking around. <3 ~Martin


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